


No Trails Home

by DebraHicks



Category: Young Guns (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Native American/First Nations Legends & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebraHicks/pseuds/DebraHicks
Summary: Follows Young Guns II.  After reaching the temporary safety of the whore house, Doc and Chavez face some truths about their past and their future.
Relationships: Jose Chavez y Chavez/Josiah "Doc" Scurlock
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	No Trails Home

His mistake was in looking back. Chavez was sitting alone near the fire; none of the ladies had offered him a drink or any of the other delights of the establishment. Julie tugged a little impatiently at his hand and Doc looked up into her blue eyes. Smiling an apology, he slipped his hand from her small one. 

"Julie, honey, could you pour a couple of baths?" he requested softly. 

The lady had other ideas and before Scurlock could protest, she took him in a long kiss, tongue teasing along his lips. But when she moved away, instead of the promising red of her lips all Doc could see was the darker crimson that stain Chavez's arm. The heat of lust was lost under the warmth of reluctant friendship. 

Looking down again, he frowned at his friend's back. Chavez's head was lowered, thick black hair cascading down around his shoulders, his arm pressed tight against his stomach. Julie stroked Doc's cheek. Gently he took her wrist, kissed her palm. 

"Bring some boiling water and bandages into the back bedroom," he ordered. 

"Oh, come on, sugar, you don't want to stay with that breed when I'm here," she purred. 

Something in her smooth, contempt-filled tone finished his tried patience. Dropping her hand, Doc snapped, "Just do it!" 

With a very unladylike remark she pushed passed him, marched down the stairs and disappeared into the kitchen. Doc dismissed her immediately and came down the stairs to Chavez. He was surprised when the other man didn't look up; there was no way Chavez could not have heard him. Even more concerned now, he knelt in front of the Navajo and touched his knee. 

"Hey, Chavez, we need to take care of that arm," he said quietly. 

The dark head come up, ebony eyes meeting Doc's jade green. Doc took a sharp breath at the pain and hopelessness filling the fathomless deeps. It was more raw emotion than he had ever seen in his usually stoic friend. The hand that was on Chavez's knee tightened automatically; he had no idea what had caused such a wealth of emotions. 

"Chavez?" He wanted to know what the half-breed knew but was afraid of the knowledge at the same time. 

A very slight smile curved the full lips and Chavez shook his head in mute acknowledgement of his emotional storm. He glanced away, breaking the spell, returning to his usual quiet look. 

"I'll be alright," he said shortly. "I can take care of..." 

"It's hard to bandage something with only one hand," Doc cut him off. He was worried by the amount of blood he could now see coloring the other man's shirt. "Don't be stubborn. It won't take long." 

He thought for a minute he would get another refusal but to his pleased surprised, Chavez nodded. Doc came to his feet, held his hand down. Chavez gave him a doubtful look but took the offer and let Doc pull him up. Doc felt him sway and wrapped his arm around the taller man's waist. The muscles under his arm stiffened but Chavez didn't try to pull away. They went into the backroom in silence. 

The room was warm, with one lamp burning against the darkness. A straight backed chair, a stool and a narrow bed filled the small space. Doc knew from experience that the upstairs rooms were better kept, but this one served when the place was full. Chavez eased out of his grasp and started toward the chair. Doc took his arm, steered him to the stool. 

At his friend's puzzled look, he explained, "I can get at your arm better this way." 

Doc knelt in front of the Navajo and unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt, then started on the front. Doc could feel Chavez watching but he made no protest. Doc's fingers started shaking. He pretended not to notice. 

The door opened and he started guiltily, though he could not have said why. Julie came in carrying a large pan of steaming water, several clothes and two bottles, all balanced precariously in her small hands. Doc jumped to her assistance. 

To his surprise, she smiled at him. "I brought some laudnum." Glancing over at Chavez, she added, "Looks like he could use it." 

"Yeah," Doc agreed worriedly. Forcing a gentle smile, he asked her, "Forgiven?" 

She smiled back. "Shit, Doc, I guess you boys have to take care of each other, what with everyone being after you." 

Protest rose in his mind. He wasn't an outlaw; he was a schoolteacher. But he shoved the words away, his thoughts returning to his injured friend. Still, he was gracious enough to appreciate her assistance and gave her a chaste kiss. To his amazement the hardened whore blushed at the tenderness in his gesture. 

"I'll get those baths," she said quickly. 

"Thanks, love." 

She exited and Doc turned to find amusement in Chavez's dark eyes. "No wonder Yen Sung loves you so," he commented. 

His smile made Doc feel better, seemed to lift the haze of gloom that had followed him since the temporary euphoria of their escape. Doc came back around behind Chavez and eased the bloody shirt off. The Indian's breath hissed between his teeth at the movement, making Doc wince. 

Pulling the chair closer, he sat down, took the wounded arm very carefully. "Jesus," he muttered softly. 

"Not so bad," Chavez said levelly. 

"Compared to what?" Doc rejoined more harshly than he intended. Doc held the bottle of potent painkiller out. "Here." 

For a moment he was unsure of whether the traditional Navajo would take the white man's medicine. But Chavez took it gratefully, downing two quick swallows, grimacing at the taste. After giving it a couple of minutes to take effect Doc started cleaning the dried blood away, ignoring Chavez's involuntary flinching. While he didn't agree that it was "not so bad" the wound did not seem as serious once it was cleaned. Trying to smile, Doc looked up into the dark face. 

"Could have been worse," he said optimistically. "If it had gone between the bones..." 

Chavez only nodded vaguely. Doc finished in quick silence, mouth tight as he surveyed the stark white scars marring the other man's smooth chest, many of them gained on their first outlaw trail, after their lives had been changed forever by John Tunsill's death. He had tried to forget the Chavez's lifesaving charge back into the ring of soldiers. Remembrances meant acknowledging the depth of loyalty that would make men die for each other. Over the past eight months he'd forced himself to forget his life after John Tunsill's death, pushed away the images of shared dangers and friendships forged in blood. Now, he was torn with the desire to remember the friendship and the fear of what long hidden secrets those memories would reveal. 

He stood up, moving away from the memories. A light hand touched his arm and he found himself staring down into bottomless, hazy black eyes. 

"Thank you, amigo," Chavez said softly. 

Chavez continued to stare up and Doc thought he wanted to say more but after a moment the dark eyes closed. Awkward silence filled the closed room as Doc struggled to push aside the maze of emotions surrounding him. He settled on thinking in only practical terms. 

"Come on, pal," he said gently. Sliding his arms around the bigger man's waist, he hoisted Chavez to his feet. 

A little unsteadily they started for the upstairs bath. But the laudnum and blood loss was fast taking effect and Chavez stumbled, weight coming down on Doc's side. Doc's knees buckled under his own exhaustion and the sudden weight. As they went down his one thought was to spare his friend. Twisting to take the blunt of the fall, Doc was startled to find himself pinned into the soft bed by Chavez's body. He shifted to rise and found himself caught by the onyx eyes above him. The heat of a summer dessert flickered along his nerves, centered like an arrow in his groin. 

Panicked, he grabbed Chavez by the upper arms and shoved him away. There was a choked cry from Chavez as his injured arm slammed the rough wood wall. Doc's panic instantly changed to contrition. 

"Shit... Chavez, I'm sorry," he mumbled. 

Chavez was curled protectively around his arm, head down, hair covering his face. Without thought, Doc reached out and stroked the heavy mane away from the handsome face. A soft sigh answered his touch. Very slowly, Chavez raised his head. But Doc was afraid of what Chavez would see in his face and refused to meet the dark gaze. 

"Maybe," Doc forced the words through his tight throat, "it would be better for you to just stay here." 

A hard, calloused hard grazed his cheek; he could not ignore the touch, looked up. Another series of new emotions blazed in Chavez's bottomless eyes; hope, loss, resignation and caring. 

"Don't be afraid of me," Chavez pleaded hoarsely. 

The wording surprised Doc. "I'm not afraid of you." 

A soft smile curled Chavez's full mouth. "Then you're afraid of what your heart is telling you." 

Doc drew a sharp breath, acknowledging the truth in the statement. He had no argument against it, so he once more fell back on practicality. Shifting closer, he got his arm around the other man's back. 

"Come on, you still need..." 

Chavez moved, lay a single, light kiss to Doc's neck. Doc started, not in anger, but at the prairie fire that swept down his limbs. Chavez drew away. 

Looking down, Doc asked levelly, "Why did you do that?" 

His friend's face held none of the confusion that Doc was feeling, showing total honesty. "I have wanted to do that for as long as I have known you." 

Doc was still trying to understand what was happening. But he question he asked startled him. "Why now? Why didn't you do anything before?" A depressing answer presented itself, and he frowned. "You're just loopy from that laudnum." 

Chavez shook his head defiantly. "No," he said forcefully. He started to continue, stalled, hopelessness flooded the expressive eyes. 

"Why now?" Doc repeated slowly. 

Chavez broke eye contact, head dropping. "Because, this time, me amigo, there are no trials home." 

A chill went down Doc's back. Memories of the harrowing chase he'd ridden flashed back. He remembered Chavez's visions, some that had come true, some that had been avoided. He knew what the Navajo meant, knew what he was being told. 

"No!" He shoved off the bed, storming toward the door. "You, goddamn, superstitious savage! I'm going to get home!" 

"Joshia." 

It was the first time Chavez had ever used his Christian name, and the single word brought him to a sudden halt. He turned, met the intense black eyes. 

"I don't know," Chavez said softly, "what the future holds for you. For me, the Spirit Horse will be coming soon." 

Doc's anger vanished under the knifing pain that thought brought. The searing image of the first time Chavez had been shot ripped through him, overlaid with a future image of the glittering onyx eyes dulled in death. Doc took a sharp breath, the idea slashing his heart. Two strides brought him back to his friend's side. Sinking down on the bed, he put his head in his hands. 

"Oh, shit, Chavez,' he muttered. "This isn't my life anymore." 

"No. But you are my life." 

Doc would have thought he was beyond shock, but the depth of the simple statement was more than he was ready for. He came to his feet again, breathing hard. He wanted to deny his need, wanted to grab Chavez and never let go. He wanted to leave and had to stay. And overriding everything was his fear of Chavez's visions. 

"Oh, Jesus," he muttered softly. 

He came back, knelt on the hardwood floor. Chavez was watching him, unmoving, letting Doc know that everything was in his hands now. Doc reached for one large hand, held it tight. 

"Why did you let me leave without saying something?" Doc asked softly. 

Chavez smiled very slightly. "What could I have said, me amigo? You love Yen Sun. You wanted children and a life in the east. It was what you wanted." 

Doc stared up, aching with self-imposed loneliness. He had lived with the lie from the moment the tall Navajo had come into his life. Leaning forward he let his forehead rest against Chavez's, carded through the coarse hair. 

"I could have loved you, Chavez, too easily,," he confessed quietly. He eased back, met the intense expression on the dark face. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't let myself. And I do love Yen Sun." 

He wasn't sure what he expected, anger perhaps but there was only love and sorrow in onyx above him. Chavez touched his cheek again. 

"The Horse is close, Doc. Tonight, in this house, maybe our last time together." 

Doc grabbed Chavez by the upper arms, shook him hard. "Stop saying that! You are..." 

And his voice died as he stared into the haunted eyes, saw the truth as his friend saw it, saw the shadows that were too close to outrun. With a small sob, he surrendered to his feelings. Wrapping the other man in a hard hold, he covered Chavez's full mouth with his own, tongue demanding entry. His desperate aggression was met with gentle openness, with a soft sigh to match his near sob. 

His mind screamed at him that it was wrong, forbidden, sinful; his body and soul cried out in completion. Once Chavez had charged back into certain death for him, now Doc offered the man everything he was, to show how much them being together meant to him. 

He tasted Chavez for the first time, tongue twinning with the bigger man's, running over even white teeth. Chavez's response was to suck on the welcomed intruder, to draw it deeper into his mouth. They broke the kiss reluctantly, both breathing hard. Doc met the glittering eyes. 

"Chavez," he whispered, "I've never done this before. I don't know..." 

A soft kiss silenced him. "Trust me, little one." 

Doc chuckled. "Chavez, little is not usually a term you'd want to use in this situation." 

His joke was answered with another quick smile. They moved at the same time, coming together slowly, tenderly, lips brushing. Doc pressed down against the strong, slender body. When they broke the kiss, it was Doc who moved away first, shedding his clothes and boots with savage moves. Chavez struggled to rise, smiling at Doc's impatience. But the days trials combined with the heady opiate were more than his exhausted body could handle and he sat back down with a solid thump. 

The handsome face colored with a combination of dismay and confusion. Despite the heat pounding through his veins and the erection standing out hard in front of him, Doc chuckled. Chavez blinked blurrily up at him. Doc clamped a hand over his mouth to stop the sudden stampede of laughter that threatened to destroy the fragile mood. 

It was too late. Doc started laughing, even though he knew the sound was tinged with fear, he couldn't stop himself. It was Chavez who halted it with a sudden move. He reached out and pulled Doc down on top of him, wrapping his legs around Doc's back, laying quick light kisses along Doc's chest. When he ran his tongue over one nipple Doc let out a yelp of startled pleasure. 

Reining hard on his emotions, Doc moved away just far enough to undo the laces on Chavez's pants, tug off the worn leather boots. As he started to move back up the strong body a shy hand touched his cock. It was not a touch meant to excite, it was hesitate, gentle. He glanced up into a look of horror on Chavez's tired face. 

"What?" he wondered. 

"What happened?" Chavez asked lowly. 

Doc was confused, though it was disappearing as the light touch drove him slowly crazy. Understanding dawned as he reached for Chavez's cock. Of the Regulators, he was the only one born in a hospital. 

"You never noticed that before," he questioned jokingly. 

Very seriously, Chavez said, "I never allowed myself to look." 

"It's called circumcision," Doc explained. "They did it in the hospital where I was born." 

Distracted by curiosity, Chavez tightened his hand, bringing a low hiss through Doc's teeth. "Did it hurt when..." 

"Chavez," Doc said tightly, "I have better things to do that sit here and discuss my dick, okay?" 

That brought Chavez's attention back into focus. He smiled and a shiver went through Doc's spine at the feral expression. The bigger man felt the tremor. 

"Don't..." 

Doc silenced him with another kiss. "I'm not afraid." 

In that instant he realized that it was true. For now, for the short while they would be alone in the dark room, he wasn't afraid of anything, of dreams, of tomorrow, of his desires. 

His admission was enough for his companion. Chavez twisted, putting himself on top, claiming Doc's mouth. Doc wrapped his arms around the hard body, slid against the smooth skin, felt sparks in his blood as their cocks brushed across each other. Chavez's tongue filled his mouth, his hair falling in a heavy curtain around them, blocking the lamplight, narrowing the world down to their joined mouths. Doc sucked on the hot tongue, savoring the touch, the taste. The heavy body pinning his rolled to the side and the sparks flared into flame as Chavez's hand started a steady glade along the length of his shaft. 

Doc gasped, breaking the kiss. "Jesus, Jose..." 

Chavez never paused, never missed a beat, seemed to be following some ancient drum that only he could hear. He trailed kisses down Doc's throat, teased his hand through the light gold hair that decorated Doc's chest. Doc held on, each touch, each kiss stirring the lust. He thrust up, needing more, wanting Chavez's mouth everywhere. The full lips covered one nipple and he groaned deep in his throat. From the edges of his mind Doc realized that he was not returning the touch, not sharing the fire that blazed along his nerves. He forced his hand away from the grip that he had locked along Chavez's back, moved it down to take Chavez's cock. The feel was different, strange, the foreskin momentarily distracting. The response from Chavez snapped his attention back instantly. 

The Navajo gasped, throwing his head back, pushing down against Doc's small hand. Doc smiled, pleased, as always, with his ability to learn quickly. He tipped Chavez over, reversing their positions, started his own slow, erotic trial down the smooth, hairless chest. Chavez's calloused hands tangled in his short hair, kneading and pushing at the same time, moaning softly at Doc's touch. 

Feeling bolder, Doc took one deep brown nipple into his mouth as his hand took a stronger hold on the large cock. To his surprise, Chavez grabbed his arms, nearly shoving him away. 

"What?" Doc demanded hoarsely, amazed he could talk. 

"Too much," Chavez gasped. "Too soon." 

Doc chuckled, enjoying the cascade of heavy locks that framed the round face, enjoying the glitter he'd brought into the onyx eyes. Chavez's erotic, full lips parted slightly as he tried to get his breath. Over Doc's lust was admiration for the man's undeniable, alien beauty. He'd always been attracted to the exotic. Leaning forward, he touched gentle lips to his friend's cheek. Chavez blinked up at him. 

"You are beautiful, Chavez," he whispered. 

The rich brown skin covered the blush Doc was certain was there but the dark eyes brightened even more. Chavez ran his hand down Doc's chest. 

"Lie back," he requested softly. 

Doc followed the instructions without compliant. The bigger man kissed him deeply as he lay him back in the narrow bed. Doc heard himself moan, heard it answered. Then, in a surprising fluid move, Chavez shifted, transferring the kiss to Doc's solid cock. Doc jumped, choking back a cry of sheer animal joy. 

The hot mouth slid slowly down, back up, forcing Doc to take several deep breaths. He struggled to hold still against the slippery warm velvet that was sending him heavenward. His hands tangled in Chavez's long hair. He wanted to thrust, wanted to give himself over to the incredible sensations. He held on, let Chavez lead him. 

"God, Chavez, that...." 

There was a moments pause, a second of reprieve as Chavez smiled up at him. "Joshia Scurlock," he joked gently, "without something to say?" 

Doc opened his eyes, met the open gaze. A dozen quips and quotes raced through his mind but at the last all he could do was smile and shake his head in amazement at the love he read in the Navajo's expression. The smile that answered his was brief as a desert rain, and just as wonderful. Rolling them together, Doc claimed the full mouth again. Almost unconsciously, he started to thrust between the two muscled thighs. Chavez met each move, bucking under him. 

The heat was rising, shimmering just out of reach like an mirage on desert sands. Doc let himself drift toward it, taking his dark partner with him. 

"No," Chavez mumbled again, breaking away. "Not yet." 

Drawing on all his reserves, Doc held himself still, let his head rest on the sweaty, brown chest. His hand traced around one ear, as he kissed lightly along the fine strong neck. 

"You're gonna drive me loco, compadre," he complained. 

Once more Chavez shifted under him, rolling over onto his stomach. He reached out, stroked down Doc's stubbled cheek. 

"Fuck me, Doc," he whispered. 

The idea sent a chill over the heat. It was everything Doc had imagined ages ago on the Tunsill Ranch as he'd watched the young Indian. It was too wonderful, too much, too scary. 

Shaking his head, Doc said, "I don't want to hurt you." 

The gentle admission, brought new warmth into the black eyes. "You won't," Chavez assured him. 

Desire and concern warred along Doc's nerves, making it hard to think. Chavez didn't give him a chance to deny his needs, he reached down, stroked his cock. But Doc managed to move away, sliding off the bed. 

"Okay," he said breathlessly. "Wait." 

Smiling slyly, he went to the door leading to the kitchen, took a quick glance out. With no one in sight, he made a run to the iron stove and grabbed what he needed. Feeling very pleased with himself he came back into the small room. Chavez blinked up at him, held out his arms. Carefully putting his prize on the floor next to the bed, Doc sank back into welcome. 

The short break had done nothing to cool the desert heat, seemed instead to fan it. Doc took Chavez again, tongue running deep, sparing with Chavez's. His hands ran down the fine body, kneaded the tight buttocks. 

"Turn over," Doc ordered. Chavez nodded, obviously pleased by Doc's taking command. 

Doc frowned at the scars on the board back. He kissed along each of them, his hands rubbing relaxed muscles, finally drifting down the dark cleft of Chavez's ass. The other man moaned, pushing up, demanding without words. Throat tight and hands shaking, Doc reached to the floor and dipped his fingers into the can of lard he had borrowed. 

The feel of grease was not what Chavez had expected and he jumped at the first touch of Doc's slippery fingers. He glanced over his shoulder and Doc playfully waggled his shiny fingers at him. Chavez smiled again, a beautiful sight Doc now admitted he had always loved. Chavez came up on his hands and knees. 

Doc slid one finger into the opening, smiled in triumph at the deep moan that filled the small room. He moved, tested, intrigued by the slick interior muscle, by the pleasure he was giving the other man. But the whirlwind heat was raging now, and barely controlling his moves, Doc slid his finger out, dipped his hand into the can and spread the thick liquid over his cock. With one arm around Chavez's waist he used the other to guide his shaft to the small entrance. 

"Doc... come on, amigo," Chavez begged. 

His single flicker of hesitation was forgotten under the huskily muttered demand. Doc leaned forward, pushed. He was suddenly half-sheathed in wet, tight muscle, in strong heat and tight hold. Chavez cried out, buried his face in the pillow. Fear gripped Doc as strongly as the lust. 

"Chavez? Damn..." He shifted to pull out. 

"No." Chavez's hand rested on his flank. "No. It's good." 

"You sure?" Doc asked again, hoping he would have the strength to withdraw if Chavez said no. 

Chavez's answer was to push back, forcing the large cock deeper. Doc's head went back and he gasped at the sensations that whipped through him. With one arm still locked around Chavez's waist he jerked the other man to him, driving into the willing body. His other hand gripped Chavez's long cock, pumping in rhythm to his thrusts. 

He watched his pale thighs pound against the dark buttocks, listened to the wet sound of oiled flesh whispering against flesh. Chavez's head came back, spilling his hair across the square shoulders, and Doc could only think of wild stallions. The all thought vanished under the blazing heat. It flamed high, carried him into mountain cold. And beyond the physical was something Doc was afraid to name, something more important than the sex. He wanted to say something, needed to tell Chavez what he was feeling. But talking had become impossible. 

From somewhere far away Doc could hear moans and groans, softly uttered obscenities, and pleas for completion. Reality narrowed down to the ancient beat controlling his body, to the incredibly body he was buried in, to his love for the man who now shared his soul. Despite all his efforts, the shimmering heat would not be denied. He thrust deep, twisted, felt the muscles tighten around him. Desert sun blinded him, lightened the dark room. He cried out, heard it echo though Chavez's stiff body, felt hot fluid cover his hand. 

Forever held them, let them drift above the violence and the blood, above the shadows and visions. Slowly, Doc drifted down to realize his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. A deep sigh filled the small room, intruded on his darkness. He opened his eyes, surprised to find himself still within Chavez's body. Chavez's head was down between his hands and he was panting like an overheated racehorse. Very slowly, Doc moved, easing his withdrawal with gentle hands over the brown back. 

He rolled sideways. Reaching up he wrapped Chavez in a hard hold, urged the dark head to his shoulder. Moving sluggishly, Chavez lay a single kiss to Doc's chin. With an effort, Chavez threw his leg over Doc's bringing them even closer together. They both rested in the love and warmth. 

Stroking through Chavez's hair, Doc kissed his temple. Chavez's hand carded through the sparse gold hair on his chest, the touch comforting. They lay there for a long time, but the world, reality, and Chavez's dreams now lurked in the shadows around them. And somehow, Doc knew something hadn't been said about those dreams. 

"You lied to me, didn't you, Chavez?" Doc whispered. "About the dreams." 

His lovers silence was the only confirmation he needed. 

"Tell me." The dark head shook against his shoulder. He tightened his hold, made his guess. "The Spirit Horse comes for us both, doesn't it?" 

The ribs under his arm lifted with a long, deep breath. "Yes," Chavez answered hoarsely. 

Doc closed his eyes against the tears that threatened, against the fear that swarmed through him, against the loss of old and new loves. The darkness around him panicked him. Shoving Chavez away, he started to get off the bed. Chavez made no move and that stopped him. He spun, kissing Chavez deeply and desperately. He felt his tears run down to Chavez's cheeks. When he broke the kiss it was to stare into the bottomless eyes. The words he couldn't offer before came easily. 

"I love you, Chavez. I'm going to get home and I'm going to take you with me," he promised harshly. 

Chavez's smile was warm and patient. "I love you, little one." 

Refusing to think about what was ahead of them, refusing to acknowledge the truth he had read earlier in the dark eyes, Doc came to his feet, and reached a hand down for Chavez. The taller man staggered up. Doc reached back, grabbed two blankets off the bed, wrapping one around each of them. He slipped his arm around Chavez's waist, a position that had become second nature, urged him toward the door. 

"Bath," he said lightly. 

The shadows followed them. As they reached the door, Doc shifted to look up at his friend again. 

Swallowing hard, he asked, "Are we together?" 

He knew Chavez would understand what he was asking. More sorrow flooded the expressive face. 

Chavez shook his head. "No." 

Doc brushed at the thick hair that had fallen into Chavez's face. There was only one more question that he needed answered. 

"Who's first?" 

Mist sparkled in the ebony eyes, giving Doc his answer. 

"I'm sorry, Chavez," he stated softly. "But I'm glad I'm first. I don't want to watch you die." 

Knowing that he was very close to accepting the dreams, he forced a fake smile to the surface. "But it won't happen until we're both old..." 

"Doc." Chavez's fingers trailed down his cheek. "We will find each other again. I promise." 

The fear that had been gnawing through him like snake venom vanished, cured by the undeniable truth in the soul-deep words. His lover was right; it didn't matter. He faced the future having known the companionship of a fine lady, the laughter of children; and a love so strong he knew Chavez's promise would be fulfilled. 

"I believe you," Doc offered his own promise. 

They went out to face the world together.


End file.
